


So Loyal

by Calais_Reno



Category: Sherlock (TV), Sherlock Holmes & Related Fandoms
Genre: Anger, Angst, Don't copy to another site, F/M, Flash Fic, Loss, M/M, Regret
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-03-23
Updated: 2019-03-23
Packaged: 2019-11-28 22:06:24
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 688
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/18214259
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Calais_Reno/pseuds/Calais_Reno
Summary: I saw, but didn’t know what it was worth.Moriarty saw, and he knew how to use it.She sees how to use it, too, knows what it’s worth.





	So Loyal

I didn’t know what I had. He followed me like a loyal pet, and I didn’t see what others saw. It took me weeks to even recognise how deep that loyalty went.

You would think that a brilliant brain like mine would have noticed.

Moriarty knew. He saw it. At the pool, he strapped him with explosives and made him his mouthpiece.

I think he knew he’d won when he saw the momentary flash of betrayal in my eyes. He wanted me to think that John had been working for him all this time, that he was just another token in the little game we were playing. He saw my disappointment, my fear, my regret. It lasted only a fraction of a second, but he saw it.

She saw what he was, too, and she knew what to do with it.

He looks at her the way he used to look at me. Protective, fond. _So loyal, so fast._

He’s angry, and now I recognise that I deserve his anger. I thought I was doing it for him, protecting him. He saw what it really was: I trusted everyone but him. I trusted Mycroft, Molly, my parents, even homeless people, for god’s sake. I trusted people whose names I didn’t know.

But I didn’t trust him.

I underestimated him. I should have asked myself why he stayed, in spite of my mistreatment. He always hated it when I kept things from him, running off in a swoosh of Belstaff, saving all the details for the moment when I could amaze him. His anger was always worth it, just for his admiration: _amazing, brilliant!_

I knew he wasn’t just a harmless man in an ugly jumper. I knew he wasn’t weak. He has killed, for me. Why would he need protection?

A bull pup, he’s been called. Dangerous, unpredictable. I saw, but didn’t know what it was worth.

We’re standing on the sidewalk. He’s looking at me. I can read hurt and anger, and something more. I’ve lost him.

He will follow her now, be the dog at her heels. He doesn’t quite know what she is, but he senses it, and it excites him. He was never made for a quiet life, a nice house in the suburbs, a little yard with a play set, a minivan full of children. He is not domestic, not tame.

I brought him back to life. _I was so alone, and I owe you so much._ And then, I gutted him. I left him, a hollow shell, because I thought he was mine. There was no question in my mind: I would come back, and he would return to me.

I see now, with the perfect clarity of hindsight, that my moment has passed. If a time machine could appear here, on the street in front of me (silly thought, that— time machine. As if the laws of physics could be temporarily suspended) I know what moment I would take back, relive differently.

Not when I was standing on the parapet at St Bart’s, ready to fall for him. It was already too late then. Not the dinner at Angelo’s, his transparent questions, my careful answers blocking his obvious intent. Though that would be one place I could have begun.

The moment at the pool. That was when I saw it. And I knew. I knew. I saw what he was.

Moriarty saw, too. He knew before I did, and he used it against me.

She sees how to use it, too, knows what it’s worth.

He’s in the cab, waiting for her.

When she looks at me, I see Moriarty’s glee. She’s won, and the importance of that is not lost on her. She says, _I’ll talk him around_ and I can see how smug she is. He will forgive me— if she wants that to happen. We will be friends— if it suits her plans. She will tolerate me because it amuses her to have a witness to her victory.

One day soon, she will put a bullet in my chest, but I am already lost. He is hers already.


End file.
